


Protection

by Patrocool (all_the_homo)



Series: patchwork quilt [8]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Best Friends, Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Pagan Character, Paganism, all you have to know is that theo is pagan and philip is john and alexs foster son, theo and philip are brotp okay, theyre bffs and i love them, you dont have to read the other points to understand this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10072727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_the_homo/pseuds/Patrocool
Summary: “Theo, what’s wrong?” Philip leaned against her locker, a frown on his lips, hazel eyes studying her carefully. She had this angry, frustrated look on her. Nothing obvious, of course, she was Aaron Burr’s daughter, but the way that her fingers twitched, and the way her lips curled down at the corner gave her away to Philip, who could read people like books.She froze a little, and then flicked her thick, black hair out of her face, swallowing as she stalled a little. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said smoothly.* * * * *Or, Theo seems upset, and Philip is determined to fix it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry this is short :o but i havent updated in a while and i wanted some character development with philip and theo. a little introspection on their friendship. the more comfortable philip gets, the more he starts breaking the rules and doing shit like this- he usually has good intentions though!
> 
> also: philip in crop tops  
> (pap edit: thEO IN ALL KINDS OF FASHIONABLE CLOTHES AHH)
> 
> that is all

“Theo, what’s wrong?” Philip leaned against her locker, a frown on his lips, hazel eyes studying her carefully. She had this angry, frustrated look on her. Nothing obvious, of course, she was Aaron Burr’s daughter, but the way that her fingers twitched, and the way her lips curled down at the corner gave her away to Philip, who could read people like books.

(The only ones who could allude him at times were Alex and Georges; the two were too excitable and spontaneous to read sometimes.)

She froze a little, and then flicked her thick, black hair out of her face, swallowing as she stalled a little. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said smoothly, and then tugged on the blue “BLACK LIVES MATTER” crop-top he was wearing. “Isn’t that Frances’ shirt?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I steal most of her clothes. Now, tell me what’s up. If it was the Jeffersons again-” He clenched his fists, and she crossed her arms. 

“You are not getting in a fight with Martha and Eston,” she said, the slightest hint of irritation edging her voice as she nudged him out of her way. Philip refused to budge.

“If it wasn’t them, why are you upset?” Philip asked, eyes narrowed. He gently touched her shoulder. “Theo?”

She huffed, and looked at her feet, scuffing the toe of her converse. “I haven’t meditated, I just. It isn’t safe.” She murmured very quietly, biting her lip.

Philip softened, and rubbed her arm. “Grab your stuff. I’ll clear out a classroom.”

She shook her head. “I can’t… Not here. Don’t worry about it, I’ll do it when I get home.” 

He scoffed, and rolled his eyes. “If you need to meditate, then I will make a safe place for you.” Philip grabbed her backpack, and loaded what she needed from her locker, and slung it over his shoulder before walking towards his locker, a few halls down. Theo stared for a moment before rushing after him. 

By the time she caught up, Philip had his own backpack on his back, and his flannel tied around his waist. “Also Franny’s,” he informed her when he noticed her curious gaze. He handed Theo her bag and grabbed her hand, dragging her through the front door of the school. 

She stopped when she realized what he was doing. “We can’t leave, lunch is about to end, PD!” 

He shrugged. “Sooner or later you’ll realize that I really don’t care. I’ve been skipping school since I came to the mainland. Half a day can’t hurt me that bad.” He shifted a little nervously. “John and Alex will understand.” Right?

He forced the thought from his mind, and started walking down the street. “C’mon.”

Hesitantly, she followed until they ended up in the nearby park, and went off the trail to a tree with very little people around. Philip sat his backpack down and then carefully laid out his flannel on the grass. “Do what you need to do,” he said, pulling out his mini sketchbook, sitting against the trunk of the tree and pointedly didn’t look at Theo, giving her privacy. 

Theo sat on the flannel, and tugged her bag towards her, pulling out an amulet to hold while she meditated, quietly talking to Thoth, her patron god. 

As she did her thing, Philip wrote poetry, words flowing through him. He wrote of things he saw, of Theo and their friendship, of his foster sister, of Georges and his everything, of things he felt. He just wrote until he ran out of things to write, and then he edited.

_split knuckles / cracked ribs / empty smiles and even emptier hearts / broken promises / shattered souls / things that had been, and never will be_

_yield to the one who owns your heart / he has a home’s warm hearth in his eyes / and the stars painted on his skin / he has your soul in his hands / but instead of crushing it, he cradles and protects it_

_warmth seeps through the hands of the trees / long, spindly fingers offer protection / a shell to hide itself from the outside_

_she is a warm drink on a cold day / a candle in the dark / the north star in my sky / she is heart, brains and soul / she’s a bright laugh on a dark day_

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and twisted his head to look at Theo, who looked calm and content. “I’m done.”

He slipped his notebook in his backpack, and checked his watch. “If we head back now, we’ll make it in time for last period.” 

She frowned. “I... I don’t wanna go back,” she mumbled, shuffling a little.

Philip shrugged. “Cool. Wanna go get milkshakes and some tuna from the bodega near Mar’s house to feed the alley cats?”

Theo’s eyes lit up, and she nodded. “Let’s do that.”

He nodded, and smirked faintly. “Come on then. Maybe, if we’re lucky, the trio will be there.” The trio referred to three cats that rarely went anywhere without each other; an orange tabby, a long haired brown cat, and a black cat with a bald patch above his eye. Philip and Theo named them Ron, Hermione and Harry respectably. 

She beamed and grabbed his hand, slinging her bag over her shoulder. He grabbed his own stuff and they chatted aimlessly as they headed out of the park and to the subway to get to the edge of Washington Heights, where Frances’ mom lived. They often went down there to hang out in the community, especially in one of the bodegas, Sanchez’s Corner Store. 

Philip and Theo understood each other in ways that other people didn’t; they knew what the other needed and when, and never pushed each other more than they needed to be pushed. They knew each other’s limits, and they were closer than imaginable.

Philip was eternally grateful for Theo, and she for him, and that was all he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> tell me what y'all think!!!! ill probably do one with frances and georges too:)
> 
> kudos encourage me, comments make my day. dont forget that yall can request things!!
> 
> Thanks to paperbound for being my wonderful beta and for thinking of this in the first place
> 
> also, on a more serious note, i think im going to start a fundraiser to raise money to buy binders for local trans people in my community. i wanna see, would any of you be willing to donate a few dollars to something like that?


End file.
